


Wisdom Teeth

by sentient_bees



Series: The Adventures of Parker and Keener [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Dad!Tony, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Harley Keener is a little shit, Irondad, It's all fluff, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 17:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18183677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentient_bees/pseuds/sentient_bees
Summary: “Do you ‘anna know my FAVORITE superhero?” Peter mumbled.“Who is it?” Tony grinned down at him.“It’s. . .it’s. . .Spider-Man!” He went to make a big gesture but fell flat and sluggish instead.“Well that makes sense, since you are Spider-Ma--”“I’M WHAT??” Peter bolted upright, staring at Tony in disbelief.(Peter gets his wisdom teeth out and Harley is here for it.)





	Wisdom Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a text post (that's in the summary lol) Enjoy!

“My moufth ‘urts” Peter mumbles as he leans against Tony and make their way into the elevator leading from the medbay to the penthouse.

The man chuckled, looking down at the teenager who had puffy cheeks filled with gauze and holding an ice pack to his face. “I know, kid. Let’s get upstairs so you can crash and sleep it off, okay?”

“M’kay.”

As they entered the penthouse, they were greeted with Harley, who was grinning behind a camera.

“Hey, Harley,” Tony greeted as he helped Peter over to the couch, “What’s with the vlog?” 

“Uh, duh. People say stupid stuff when they’re pumped full of drugs, Peter especially. I’m capturing it to watch later.”

Peter moaned from where he was sitting on the couch, “Don’ make fun o’ me.” 

Tony grinned, “I don’t know, bud, you are high as a kite right now. You’ll be laughing your ass off when you watch this later.”

“I don’ smoke weed though.” The boy pressed his face into the cushion. 

“Good to know.” Tony got up to move away when Peter whined and grabbed his sleeve. He looked down to see an incredibly emotionally distressed teenager. “Don’ go!” 

Tony sat down next to him, “I’m not going anywhere, kiddie.” Peter wasted no time snuggling up to his pseudo-father and resting his head on his chest. Harley snickered behind the camera-- drugged Peter had no sense of boundaries. Tony didn’t mind, though, as he kicked off his shoes and slung an arm around the boy to pull him closer. 

“I’m just a pillow now, huh?” Peter only hummed in reply, his eyes closed as he buried his face in his mentor’s chest. 

“ ‘s comfy.” He replied, his words slurring together.

“Oh, this is too good.” Harley laughed as he sat down to settle and video from his place on the other side of the couch. 

“Do you ‘anna know my FAVORITE superhero?” Peter mumbled. 

“Who is it?” Tony grinned down at him. 

“It’s. . .it’s. . .Spider-Man!” He went to make a big gesture but fell flat and sluggish instead.

“Well that makes sense, since you are Spider-Ma--”

“I’M WHAT??” Peter bolted upright, staring at Tony in disbelief.

Harley couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing and Peter glared fiercely at him. “Is no’ ‘unny!” He exclaimed, which in turn only made Harley laugh harder. Peter’s eyes filled with tears and he collapsed back on Tony to hide his face. 

“Tell ‘im to stop makin’ fun of me!” Peter looked up at him with his eyes full of tears. Tony was trying not to laugh at Peter’s expense and pretended to reprimand Harley.

“Harley, be nice.” He said as calmly as possible, but his demeanor fell flat as Harley burst into another round of laughs. 

“Stooop!!” Peter cried, his brow furrowed in an attempt to look angry. The expression only made them laugh harder. He started sobbing shamelessly, with poor attempts at smacking Tony to get him to stop laughing.

Tony stopped, if only for a second, but continued to smile. “Why are you crying?”

“Cause y-you ‘uys are makin’ fun o’ mee,” Peter said, “is’ no’ ‘unny.”

“Sorry, Pete,” he replied, and the boy huffed and fell against Tony’s chest once again, still hiccuping. 

“My moufth still ‘urts.”

Tony rubbed his arm in sympathy. “Yeah, bud. Do you want some water?”

“W-wha,” He looked up at him, bleary-eyed, “Like the ocean?” His tears were gone almost instantly, his mood shifting wildly, and was replaced with childlike wonder as he stared at the wall.

“Yeah, sort of like the ocean.”

He gestured widely, “Whoaaa!! ‘an we go swimmin’?” 

“Not right now-- now you have to rest. Dr. Banner’s gonna give you medicine so you can go to sleep, but do you wanna try drinking something first?”

“I-I ‘ant. . .” Peter paused for what he assumed was dramatic effect, “my cheeks are puffy.” He put two hands on his face as if to prove a point, but instantly regretted it. “Owww. . .”

“It’s just gauze in your mouth,” Harley pointed out.

“‘auze?” Peter took a minute to process it, “Wha’s that?”

“It’s there to soak up blood and stuff,” said Harley.

Peter squinted his eyes, then they went wide when he seemingly realized something. “Blood! I’m bleeding?! Where?” He looked around frantically as if the answer would be somewhere around him. “I don’ like blood. ‘Is sticky.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “You don’t seem too bothered when you lose a few pints a week, underoos.” Peter seemed to consider this, deeply, then looked sad again. 

“I’m sorry.” He looked at Tony with wide, teary eyes, “I don’ like bein’ ‘urt.”

“I know you don’t. I don’t like it either,” the man replied, then clapped his hands together. Peter clasped his hands over his ears. “Nooo! That ‘urts!” 

Tony cringed internally at his impulse action, “Sorry bud. Sort of a habit. Do you wanna watch a movie while I get you something to drink?”

“Not you,” Peter replied, resting his head on Tony’s chest once again, “Make ‘arley do it. He was mean to me.”

Harley turned the camera on himself in mock disbelief. “Oh come on, it was funny! I’m not your slave!”

“Get me water, ‘heasant.” Harley huffed out a laugh and got up.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say, your majesty.” 

Harley, holding the camera in one hand, headed over to the cabinet to retrieve a cup and fill it with water from the fridge. He walked back over and set it down on the glass coffee table. 

Peter gaped at the cup, “My throat ‘urts, ‘octor Banner didn’t let me drink for like, five years.”

“Okay, well, you’re allowed to drink now,” said Harley, handing him the cup. Peter just stared at it, his eyes filling with tears. 

“What’s--?” Before Harley could finish his sentence, Peter cried out, “My moufth is ‘illed with cotton!”

“It’s okay bud,” Tony laughed, “You just need to take the gauze out of your mouth.” The man made a move to try and help him, but Peter flinched away. “Wha’re you doin’?”

“Trying to get it out of your mouth so you can drink,” he replied.

Peter clasped a hand over his mouth. “Don’ touch my moufth!” 

“Bud, I’m just trying to help,” he said, exasperated, “Bruce said that you have to drink something before you go to sleep.”

Peter narrowed his eyes. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

Tony helped remove the gauze from Peter’s mouth, wrapping the trash up in a paper towel and tossing it in the trashcan next to the couch, courtesy of Harley. Peter took a tentative sip of water, some of it dribbling down his chin. He looked at it, sadly. “I can’t feel my lip.” He said it in such a dejected tone that Harley had to clasp a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing. 

“That’s okay, bud,” said Tony. “FRIDAY?”

“Yes, boss?”

Peter jumped, water spilling everywhere, “God??”

Harley almost choked on the water he himself was drinking. 

“God?? Is that you?” He called again.

“No, Peter. I am FRIDAY.” If Harley didn’t know any better he’d say that the AI was amused. Okay, she definitely sounded like she was trying to hold it together, despite the fact that she doesn’t laugh.

“Friday? Like the day?” He looked at the ceiling in wonder, and started snapping his fingers. “Days of the week. Days of the week! Days of the week, days of the week, days of the week!” Harley laughed, recognizing the nursery rhyme. 

Tony cackled, ripping off another paper towel to wipe off the water off of the couch. “FRIDAY, can you get Banner up here? Gotta get this spider down for a nap.”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Peter gasped in amazement, “Dr. Banner’s friends with God?”

“Yeah, they talk all the time,” Tony said behind poorly hidden amusement. “Alright, Pete, do you wanna lay down now?”

“Lay down?” He said, scandalized, “I just met God! Tony! Did you hear her?” He started singing Ariana Grande’s ‘God is a Woman,’ off-key with what was probably the wrong lyrics-- Harley didn’t know. 

“Yeah, I heard her. But FRIDAY wants you to sleep, don’t you, FRIDAY?”

“It is highly advised, as it speeds up the healing process,” the AI explained.

Peter stared dumbly at the ceiling, trying to comprehend the words through the haze of drugs.

Before he could say anything, however, Harley had an idea. He got up off the couch and grabbed Peter’s knee, and pretended to eat something. Peter stared at him, gears turning until he realized what he had done. 

“Don’t steal my kneecaps!!” He said, immediately putting both of his hands on his knees in an attempt to protect them. 

“I already did,” replied Harley, “I ate all of them.” 

Peter gasped, and, much to Tony and Harley’s alarm, burst into tears once again.

Tony, puzzled, tried to gain his attention. “Peter--bud-- what’s wrong?”

“H-he stole my kneecaps and ate them! I’ll never walk again!” At this point, he was inconsolable. Harley, compelled to feel bad but also not giving a shit, was trying very hard not to laugh. 

It was at that moment that Bruce entered from the elevator. “Tony-- FRIDAY told me you wanted to administer the meds-- did I miss something?” He said, confused at the scene of Peter bawling his eyes out and Harley continuing to film.

“Underoos is just a little emotional is all,” Tony said.

“He took them!” Peter exclaimed, clinging to Tony.

“He. . .took what?”

“Harley stole Peter’s kneecaps, apparently,” Tony said in a matter-of-fact tone, having dealt with this kind of situation more than once. 

“. . .Alright.” Bruce said, unable to find a reply. He walked forward, a tray in his hand, and he sat it down on the coffee table to try and console the teen so he could administer the medicine. Since Peter was enhanced, normal drugs didn’t do a thing for him, so he had to take sleeping and pain meds via injection until Bruce could develop the remedies in pill form. Peter has always disliked needles, and tended to just look away and brave it whenever he needed them. But a sobbing mess of a child who was already high on drugs was not something they accounted for.

“Peter, look at me,” Tony said in his best dad’s-not-messing-around-voice. “You need to calm down so you can get the medicine you need, okay?”

Peter did his best to reduce his cries to sniffles as he pointed to Harley. “Tell ‘em t-to give ‘em back!”

Harley rolled his eyes and unceremoniously put his hand on Peter’s knee, then the other one. “There. They’re back now.”

Peter’s eyes were still red-rimmed and teary, but he calmed down significantly. Then, of course, he saw the needle. “Dr. Banners not gonna stick me with a needle, is he?” He said, his voice rising an octave as he riled himself up again.

“He’s gonna have to, bud,” said Tony, “It’ll help with the pain and you can sleep better.”

“No!” He protested, stray tears falling, “Please don’t make me.” His lip quivered as he stared down at the medical instruments.

“It’ll only stick you for a second, Peter, and then you can go to bed.” Banner reassured.

He sniffed. “Really?”

“Really.”

He seemed to consider it for a second before he turned to Tony, burying himself into the man’s side. “Okay.”

Bruce seemed satisfied with the reply and proceeded to prepare the meds, disinfecting a spot on Peter’s arm as the boy clung to his pseudo-father. Tony held him still and eyed it, mouthing to Banner to ‘just do it.’

Holding the boy’s arm steady, he stuck him with the needle, administering the medicine without much of struggle. Peter let out a wounded sound from the back of his throat and tensed, but held fast where he was.

“All done!” said Banner in a sing-song voice, sticking a band-aid over the site and patting the boy’s shoulder. 

“Really? Promise?” Peter said in amazement.

Bruce chuckled. “I promise. Drink some water and try to sleep.” He got up, collecting his medical supplies.

“Thanks, Dr. Banner.” The teen said.

“No problem, Peter.” He smiled at Harley before leaving. 

“FRIDAY? Play ‘The Lion King.’” Said Harley, and the movie started playing on the screen instantly. Peter watched the screen with such intent that he looked like a child. Well, he was a child-- and so was Harley-- but even more so than usual. 

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes into the movie when Peter was fast asleep, slack and laying on Tony’s chest, who had since kicked his feet up on the couch and resigned himself to taking a nap in that spot. Harley plopped down at their feet where the couch curved and wrapped himself in a blanket. 

Later, when Peter was pain and drug-free, they watched the video, over and over again, the two boys laughing so hard it hurt.


End file.
